The Nutcracker
by ApothecaryJane
Summary: As a child, Clara witnessed the Mouse King drain her brother of his life force. Changed forever by the experience and the Nutcracker that came to her defense, Clara is thrown into a world where fairytale heroes and villains are very much a real thing. And she will need to use her knowledge to beat the monster who has returned. Based on the Nutcracker. Jefferson/OFC.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So I got this idea a few weeks ago and managed to get out this first chapter. This is my first attempt at a** _ **Once Upon a Time**_ **fanfiction and I hope it's alright.**

 **First, Last, and Only Disclaimer: It should be fairly obvious that I don't own** _ **Once Upon a Time**_ **or the original Nutcracker story. But there are a number of original characters and ideas in this story, those do belong to me.**

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"Fritz! Wait for me!" Clara cried as she dashed after her older brother who was racing down the hallway towards the kitchen. Their nanny, Ursula, hurried after them, crying out for both children to stop. It was Christmas Eve and the Stahlbaum House was in a flurry of activity as the servants prepared for the annual Christmas party. "Fritz!" Clara scolded as she finally caught up to her brother in kitchen. "You didn't wait for me." Fritz, already aware that he was a handsome boy at 11, gave his little sister an unapologetic grin.

"Sorry Clara, I can't help it if you're slower than me." Clara pouted. "Here, this should put a smile on your face." He handed her a warm cinnamon bun slathered in icing. Clara grinned in delight and chomped down on the pastry. Fritz laughed.

"Oh you two." Ursula muttered in disapproval, her breath ragged from running after them. "You'll ruin your appetite."

"No we won't." Clara promised with a full mouth. Ursula's frown deepened.

"Clara, where are your manners?" This time Clara swallowed before speaking.

"I'm sorry, Ursula."

"Yes, well, I won't tell your mother if you don't." Ursula smiled. "Now go! You have to greet guests with your parents." Ursula led Fritz from the kitchen by a hand on back, knowing that Clara would follow after her beloved brother without further instruction. Clara started to follow, but then turned around to grab another cinnamon bun. As she reached out to get one, a mouse scurried in front of her hand which she snatched back in disgust. The mouse seemed to sense her displeasure and it stopped scurrying to stand up on its hind legs and look at her, _actually_ look at her. And then it scampered off. Clara stayed still for a moment longer, but then dismissed the odd incident and ran from the room.

The Stahlbaum House was replete with Christmas decorations. Bows and garlands intertwined with the stair rungs; candles lined the walls, flickering with the movements of the guests; and in the center of the grand parlor sat the tall Christmas tree, it's skirt overflowing with brightly decorated presents and curious children.

Clara hesitated at the doorway as her eyes fell upon her brother and cousins around the Christmas tree. She had never felt particularly welcome with the other children; there had always been a small part of Clara that had felt as though she was different from them. It was that feeling that kept her from running to join them.

A hand fell upon her shoulder and Clara looked up to find her godfather, Hans Drosselmeyer, standing beside her. Clara grinned and wrapped her arms around his waist in a greeting hug. Drosselmeyer did not return the hug, but neither did he push her away.

"Why don't you join play with the other children?" He asked.

"I don't know." Clara replied after disengaging from the one-sided hug. "They tease me a lot." This was all too true. The other children also seemed to pick up on the fact that there was something different about Clara and often singled her out as their target. Drosselmeyer gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"I was just about to introduce the family to my latest creations. Would you like to help me release them from their boxes?" Clara nodded excitedly and followed Drosselmeyer over to four human sized boxes near the Christmas tree. "Just untie the bows." He ordered kindly. Clara did as she was told; carefully untying the large red ribbon that circled each box. Drosselmeyer pulled open the front of each box, allowing it to fall to the floor. Clara gasped at what was inside. Each box held a life-sized doll; two males and two females.

"They're beautiful!" She exclaimed. Drosselmeyer smiled.

"Thank you, Clara. Now step back." Clara once again did as she was told and retreated back several steps. By now, the entire family had gathered around to watch the unfolding scene. Seeing that everyone had gathered, Drosselmeyer flexed his fingers and suddenly all four dolls walked stiffly from their boxes. Noises of delight and awe escaped from the family. Clara watched, mesmerized, as the dolls began to dance in two pairs.

"You have outdone yourself, Drosselmeyer." Clara's father, Joseph, said with a grin, but the man was too busy focusing on the dancing dolls to receive the comment. One of Clara's cousins, Matilda, rushed forward to touch one of the dolls and Drosselmeyer yelled at her to stop. At once, all the dolls stopped dancing. Clara pouted in disappointment. The mood of the room changed instantly, becoming dark and foreboding.

"These dolls are not for playing!" Drosselmeyer scolded Matilda who backed away from the stormy man.

"Oh, she was just curious, Drosselmeyer." Matilda's father, Johan, said with an eye roll. "You cannot bring four life-sized dolls into a room full of children and expect them to remain still. Come, let us leave Drosselmeyer to his toys." As the rest of the family found other things to do, Clara remained near her godfather, watching as he ordered the dolls back into their packaging.

"How do you make them move?" She asked curiously as she helped him close the boxes back up.

"We are both different, Clara." Drosselmeyer replied cryptically. Once all four dolls were packaged safely once again, Drosselmeyer pulled a much smaller box from under the tree. "I made this especially for you." He stated, handing Clara the box.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out." Drosselmeyer directed with a smile and twinkling eyes. Smiling herself, but proceeding carefully, Clara unwrapped the present. Her smile widened as its contents were revealed.

"A nutcracker!" She gasped with delight. Drosselmeyer nodded.

"He is a one-of-a-kind." Cautiously, Clara pulled the Nutcracker free from its box and held him up.

"He's perfect." She murmured happily.

"Why does she get a present early and I don't?!" Fritz demanded, snatching the Nutcracker from his sister's arms.

"Give him back!" Clara cried.

"Fritz, you're going to break him." Drosselmeyer admonished as the older boy roughly handled the wooden nutcracker. "Give him back to Clara. You will get your present tomorrow morning."

"It isn't fair for her to get her present before me." Fritz muttered angrily. "I'm older."

"Give him back!" Clara demanded.

"Oh fine. Have your stupid nutcracker." He threw the Nutcracker to the floor where it landed with a sickening crunch; one of its arms had become dislodged. Tears in her eyes, Clara fell to the floor to retrieve the broken Nutcracker. Fritz stared down at her unapologetically until Drosselmeyer grabbed his arm roughly.

"How would you like me to do to you what you just did to the Nutcracker?" Drosselmeyer snarled. Fritz cowered in fear.

"What's going on over here?" Joseph asked, appearing before the trio.

"Your son took it upon himself to break my Christmas present to Clara."

"He gave it to her early!" Fritz cried. "It isn't fair!"

"That isn't fair." Joseph agreed, eyeing Drosselmeyer critically. "But that doesn't give you a right to break Clara's present. Apologize to your sister." Fritz wriggled free of Drosselmeyer's grip and muttered a half-hearted apology to his sister before scampering away. "Return your toy to the tree, Clara, it's time for dinner. Are you staying for dinner, Drosselmeyer?"

"No, I have to be in Strasberg by tomorrow morning."

"Then safe travels." Joseph joined the others as they left the parlor for the dining room. Clara remained on the ground, cradling her broken Nutcracker.

"Hand him here." Drosselmeyer ordered gently. Clara gingerly held out the Nutcracker. Drosselmeyer removed a crisp handkerchief from his pocket and created a little sling for the Nutcracker's arm. "There." He announced. "All better." Smiling, he returned the Nutcracker to Clara who sniffled away the last of her tears. "You should do as your father says." Clara nodded and reluctantly placed the Nutcracker back in his box underneath the tree. Afterwards, she lurched to her feet and wrapped her arms around her godfather. This time, he returned her hug.

"Thank you, godfather." She said before running into the dining room. Drosselmeyer turned to the Nutcracker.

"Take good care of her." He murmured.

~*~BREAK~*~

Due to being the youngest, Clara had to sit at the far end of the table next to her grandparents and the older aunts and uncles. This is where her mother liked to place those who couldn't participate in conversation completely; Clara knew this for a fact since she had overheard her mother say as much to their father last Christmas. Still, she didn't mind the seating arrangement too much as it saved her from squabbling over food with the other children who sat at the center of the table. As if reading her mind, Grandfather Otto often slipped her a piece of candy with a small wink.

"Did you hear about the Frere boys?" Auntie Tilly whispered out of the corner of her mouth. Everyone nodded their heads gravely.

"Both in a coma." Grandmother Manuela added with a grave sigh. "Fourth family this month to be affected by the sickness." Clara frowned. She knew Jorge Frere from school.

"What's a coma?" She asked.

"A coma is when someone falls asleep and doesn't wake up." Uncle Tomas replied.

"But they aren't dead?"

"No."

"What's the sleeping sickness?"

"It's the sickness that's putting all the children into a coma." Grandfather Otto answered.

"Only children?" She whispered in horror.

"So far." Grandfather Otto nodded.

"Will it get me too?"

"Will what get you?" Madeline, Clara's mother, asked as the rest of the table had fallen silent. "What are you talking about down there?"

"The sleeping sickness." Auntie Tilly replied. Madeline frowned.

"That isn't appropriate dinner conversation." She snapped. "Nor is it appropriate for children's ears." The elders hmphed, but changed the conversation. Clara spent the rest of the dinner convinced she was going to be the next victim of the sleeping sickness.

~*~BREAK~*~

Later that night, when the house fell silent and she was sure her parents were asleep, Clara abandoned her bed. She stepped into her slippers and tiptoed from her bedroom. The house was eerily silent as she made her way down the hall and then downstairs into the living room. The full moon guided her steps to the Christmas tree where her Nutcracker rested in his box. Taking a quick glance around to make sure that she was indeed alone, Clara gently picked up the damaged Nutcracker and cradled him in her arms.

"I'm sorry that Fritz damaged your arm. I brought something nicer than Godfather Drosselmeyer's handkerchief." Clara reached up and pulled the wide white ribbon from her hair which came tumbling down. She removed the handkerchief and placed the ribbon in its place. "There." Clara announced, sitting back to admire her handiwork. "I'll have Godfather Drosselmeyer fix you the next time he's in town." A sudden thump above her had Clara whipping her head around. The house was silent save for the sound of muted crying. Clara frowned. It sounded like her brother. Clutching the Nutcracker to her chest, Clara stood and slowly made her way back upstairs. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was terribly afraid, although she didn't know the reason why.

When she reached her brother's door, Clara could see a pale, blue, shimmering light coming out from under the door; the muffled crying – which was most certainly her brother – continued. Clara didn't want to open the door, but she knew that she had to because something was wrong. Steeling her nerves, Clara put her hand on the doorknob and thrust the door open. She could never have prepared herself for the sight that greeted her. The floor of her brother's room was covered in mice, all standing on their hind legs; her brother lay rigid in his bed, enveloped in the pale, blue shimmering light, and hovering above him was a monstrous mouse. It was easily twice the size of her father (who was himself a tall man), had straggly looking, dark gray fur, and sets of razor sharp teeth and claws. It was this giant mouse that was pulling the blue light from her brother. Realizing she had to put a stop to it (whatever "it" was), Clara pulled one of her slippers from her feet.

"You get off of him!" She shouted as she threw the slipper. The slipper hit the Giant Mouse on the side of his head and the blue light instantly ceased as it turned to look at her. It snarled and started towards her as the little mice nipped at her ankles, tripping her as she tried to escape. Clara screamed and fell to the floor, covering her head with her arms. But suddenly the mice stopped biting her. Clara risked a glance and saw that her Nutcracker had grown to the size of a man and was standing protectively in front of her with his wooden sword drawn. Clara scrambled to her feet and then let out a loud scream as the Giant Mouse tackled the Nutcracker. Having recovered from their shock at the suddenly growth of the Nutcracker, the little mice dashed towards Clara again. With the Nutcracker engaged in battle with the mouse, Clara prepared her feet for stomping. But the mice were prevented from reaching her by her brother's tin soldiers which, like the Nutcracker, had come to life, although they stayed small.

"Clara, check on Fritz." Startled by the sudden appearance of Drosselmeyer, Clara was nonetheless relieved. "Go!" Clara dodged and weaved the fighting mice and tin soldiers and barely dodged the sword fighting Nutcracker and Giant Mouse. She leapt onto the bed and began to shake her brother.

"Fritz! Fritz!" She cried. "Wake up!" But the boy refused to open his eyes. She turned towards Drosselmeyer who was approaching the Giant Mouse with a glowing vile in his hand. "He won't wake up!" She wailed. Drosselmeyer did not acknowledge her. The Nutcracker had the Giant Mouse cornered and that is where Drosselmeyer's attention was.

"You will no longer harm the children of this town." Drosselmeyer exclaimed as he threw the vile. Clara let out a gasp of horror as a black hole appeared at the feet of the Giant Mouse. The mouse began to fall, but at the last moment grabbed the edge. "Oh no you don't." Drosselmeyer shouted before stomping on its paws. As it once again began to fall, the Giant Mouse reached forward and grabbed one of Drosselmeyer's ankles, pulling him into the hole. Clara screamed as the hole closed up behind them. She leapt from the bed and began to pound on the floorboards where the hole had been.

"Bring him back!" She wailed. "Bring him back!"

And that was where her parents found her, surrounded on the floor by a host of damaged tin soldiers and a regular-sized Nutcracker missing its sword.

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 **Author's Note: Well there's the prologue for my first attempt at a** _ **Once Upon a Time**_ **fanfic. I hope that you like it. If you do, and want me to continue, let me know – either by reviewing or by favoriting/liking the story. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: With the semester done, I was hoping that my muse would return in force, but apparently, she is going to be difficult so I apologize for the delay. But without further ado…**

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Balls always looked better from above. Or so Clara had come to believe through her years of observation. She herself hadn't been to a ball for almost five years, ever since she had last spoken with her parents. They had tried to marry her off at that ball in a vain attempt to keep her from following the path that she was currently on. Clara grimaced at the memory and pushed it from her mind. Cramming another cinnamon roll Oreo into her mouth (an early Christmas present from Jack Frost), Clara swung her feet over the edge of the rafter on which she sitting. The dancers swirled below her in a mess of colors and gaudy baubles that caught the light from the candelabras lining the gold colored walls.

"Where are we again?" She asked the lifeless Nutcracker beside her. When he remained silent, Clara sighed and popped another cookie into her mouth. "I don't know why I keep hoping you'll wake up one day and be good company." She muttered.

"Toys generally make for poor conversation." Clara grimaced with a scowl. "Especially for young women in their twenties."

"You'll find no deal here, Rumpelstiltskin." She sniffed haughtily.

"Oh I'm not here for you, dearie." Rumpel said as he sat beside her Nutcracker. Clara regarded him warily.

"Then why are you bothering me? I'm busy."

"I'm just checking to see what a pupil of mine is up to." Rumpelstiltskin replied. His eyes darted suddenly to the key necklace around Clara's neck; she reached up and wrapped her hand protectively around it. "Why are _you_ here, dearie?" Clara glared at him.

"None of your business." She snapped. Rumpel only laughed. Clara's scowl deepened. She _hated_ the sound of that laugh. "Please go find another rafter to be a creeper from."

"You've been spending far too much time in that non-magical world." Clara rolled her eyes.

"What business is it of yours?"

"It's not." Rumpel replied with another shrug. Though neither was particularly fond of each other, they settled into a surprisingly companionable silence. Clara held up the package of Oreos.

"Oreo?"

"Don't mind if I do, dearie." Rumpel laughed. Clara gritted her teeth in irritation and almost retracted the cookies, but she didn't. There was a sudden ruckus below and Clara frowned as she watched the scene play out. The man hosting the ball – the Count of Monte Cristo – had stabbed another man and was now speaking, rather calmly, with a woman Clara did not recognize. Beside her, Rumpel sighed and shook his head. "Dear me, this won't do at all." Clara turned her head to ask him what he meant, but he was already gone. Clara rolled her eyes. Her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin was complicated. He wanted the necklace around her neck, but she refused to make a deal. He kept trying and she kept saying no. It was sort of a game and Clara enjoyed it more than she would ever admit. As long as she didn't make a deal with him, he had no power over her. And she would _never_ make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. She was the wielder of the Keyblade and she wasn't about to give it up to anyone let alone the likes of him. Realizing that she had been led astray by her source and that no children were in danger here, Clara stood and stretched.

"Time to go home." She announced to the Nutcracker. Predictably, he remained silent. Clara sighed and bent down to pick him up, placing him in her bag along with the tin soldiers. As soon as straightened back up, a tall man with a bizarre haircut was standing directly in front of her and definitely in her personal space. Clara gasped in surprise.

"Hello, Clara." His voice was deep and his tone was familiar, as though he knew who she was. Clara frowned.

"Do we know each other?"

"Not yet."

"Who are you?"

"A friend." He replied. "And I am very sorry about this."

"About what?" The words had barely left her mouth when the strange man placed his hand on her chest and pushed her. Clara screamed as she fell from the rafters.

"Use the key!" The stranger shouted. Grabbing the key from her neck, it expanded into a full-size sword. Clara twisted her body around and cut into the air. A red portal appeared and swallowed her whole just before she reached the ground.

From his perch on the rafters, Gideon sighed and rubbed at his temple. That had been a little too close for comfort; she had almost hit the ground. He turned to go and his foot nudged the package of Oreo cookies. He smiled and bent down to pick them up.

"Some things never change." He laughed softly before disappearing in a swirl of black and silver smoke.

~*~ BREAK ~*~

Clara was confused, in pain, and pissed off. It was not a good combination under the best of circumstances, but as she was currently surrounded by a host of angry villagers with pitchforks and other pointy farming implements pointed at her, it was even worse.

"Who are you?!" The owner of a particularly lethal looking scythe, an older man with a scar across his chin, demanded.

"Clara Stahlbaum." She replied. "Where am I?"

"Our village." The man snapped. Clara couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Obviously, but _where_ is your village? What land?" The villager frowned.

"What kind of question is that?"

"An intelligent one." A new voice declared from behind the circle of villagers. Clara looked up and saw an attractive younger man with chin-length wavy brown hair and dressed in an old, red velvet overcoat making his way towards her. The villager with the scythe frowned.

"What are you on about, Hatter?" He spat out the label 'Hatter' as though it was a dirty word. The man – Hatter – was unfazed.

"This world is one of many, Bletchley, though you have never left this town and are thus unware." Hatter reached his hand out for Clara to take. "She means you no harm. She is injured and as confused by her appearance in our town as you are." Reluctantly, the villagers lowered their guard, though their eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you taking responsibility for her?" Bletchley asked.

"Yes." Hatter replied.

"Fine. If she does anything untoward, _you_ will be held responsible for it." Hatter rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, whatever." He waved hand dismissively before turning his attention back on Clara who had yet to take his hand. "You going to spend the rest of your time on the ground?" Narrowing her eyes at his sarcasm, she nonetheless took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. The minute his hand had gripped hers, Clara's heart gave a strange squeeze and warmth spread throughout her body. Scowling at the feeling, Clara focused her attention on reattaching the Keyblade, which had returned to its smaller size, to the finding on the chain around her neck. Hatter watched her with interest. "That's a bit more convenient than a hat." He muttered. Clara frowned.

"What?" Hatter waved his hand dismissively again.

"Later. Come on."

"What a tick, who are you? I'm not going anywhere with a stranger." Hatter rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.

"My name is Jefferson and I would suggest we talk more at my cottage." His eyes darted purposefully towards the villagers who were still surrounding them. Clara caught his meaning and nodded.

"Of course. It's nice to meet you Jefferson, I'm Clara. Lead the way." Clara followed him as he headed back in the direction from which he had come, weaving his way between several small cottages. He stopped before a particularly ratty looking cottage. Jefferson turned to face her.

"If you try to hurt her, I will not hesitate to kill you." Clara frowned, but wasn't given a chance to ask what he meant as the door to the cottage flew open and a young girl appeared in the doorway, wearing an apron and pointing a wooden spoon accusingly at Jefferson.

"You're late for dinner." Jefferson smiled lovingly.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I had to play white knight for a moment." Grace suddenly realized they had company and flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, forgive me." She curtseyed at Clara. Clara felt uncomfortable with the action.

"There's nothing to forgive and please, don't curtsey at me. I'm no one special." Jefferson snorted.

"Somehow I doubt that. Let's get inside." The three of them entered the cottage and Jefferson made sure to close the door. "Grace, this is Clara Stahlbaum. She just came through a portal and her hands need tending. Could you get the kit from the cabinet?" Grace nodded.

"Of course." As Grace retrieved the medical supplies, Jefferson guided Clara to the table and made her sit. He then pulled a chair over so that he was facing her. "Here you are, father." Grace handed him a small basket. Jefferson smiled at her.

"Thank you, Grace. What is for supper?" He asked as he began to tend Clara's scraped hands.

"Broccoli cheese soup with potatoes." She replied, cringing as Clara hissed in pain. "There is plenty for us all. Would you like me to serve it?" Jefferson nodded. Grace once again disappeared.

"So where are you from?" Jefferson asked. "Originally, I mean."

"Eberswalde, Germany. Where is this place?"

"You're in the Enchanted Forest." Jefferson explained as he wrapped up her right hand. Clara frowned. She hadn't yet been to the Enchanted Forest and was confused as to why the Keyblade had taken her here. She said as much to Jefferson who shrugged.

"That's one of the things I always hated about magic: you can never really control it." Having finished bandaging her hands, Jefferson leaned back in his chair. "I stopped traveling through magical portals myself after it nearly cost me Grace." Based upon what he had said in the village center, Clara had guessed that Jefferson had traveled between worlds, but she was surprised that he had been so forthcoming. Jefferson noticed her surprise and explained, "No offense, but you don't strike me as particularly threatening." He wasn't exactly lying, but neither was Jefferson telling her the truth. The truth was that he had felt a connection to her the moment he had taken her hand and pulled her to her feet. The feeling had been strangely pleasant and entirely unwelcome.

For her part, Clara had felt entirely too comfortable in the presence of this strange man and while she logically knew that letting her guard down was a bad idea, she also couldn't help but be, well, relaxed. So, she bit back the retort and let his comment slide.

"Thank you." She said instead. Jefferson raised his eyes and locked them with hers. For a moment, both their worlds stopped spinning.

"Papa?" Jefferson broke their gaze and looked at his daughter who was standing before them with two bowls of soup. Clara flushed and stood.

"I should go."

"Please don't." Grace exclaimed, to the surprise of both her father and Clara, who looked at her. Grace blushed, but smiled. "It's been so long since we've had company and it's getting dark. The Evil Queen may be gone, but the Enchanted Forest still isn't safe for anyone traveling alone at night." Jefferson turned his attention back to Clara.

"She's right. Besides, where else are you going to go?"

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"You're not imposing." Jefferson assured her with a smile. "Take a seat and let's talk about interworld traveling."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **I find one of the most difficult things about writing a** ** _Once Upon a Time_** **fanfiction is that it can be pretty hard to predict the direction of the show. As a viewer, that is awesome; as a writer, makes life harder. That being said, this story takes place in a somewhat idealized future of the** ** _Once Upon a Time_** **storyline. A future where everything has sorted itself out and life continues on without much interruption. This allows me to use characters as I see fit. I will do my best to incorporate elements from future shows, but I also just want to write my story. So bear with me and my creative take on things.**

 **One further note of necessity: Clara comes from the same world/dimension as the Darlings, which may or may not be the non-magical world. I like to think it's a different world/dimension, but I guess it isn't overly important.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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